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  Weezilwood  

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by Weezilwood
12-18-02
Satan's hanging out in Paradise...
Why hast thou, Satan, broke the bounds prescrib'd to thy transgressions, and disturb'd... those whose dwelling God hath planted here in bliss?
Gabriel... who would not, finding way, break loose from Hell, though thither doom'd?
The tension grows between Gabriel and Satan...
Not that I less endure, or shrink from pain, Insulting Angel, well thou know'st I stood Thy fiercest... from hard assays and ill successes past A faithful Leader...
O sacred name of faithfulness profan'd!!!
God stops a potential war.
The Fiend lookt up and knew his mounted scale aloft: nor more; but fled murmuring, and with him fled the shades of night.
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